


Bread and Stars

by Moonluster



Series: Transcendence [5]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Atem just really vibes with him okay, Choking, Dissociation, Drama, Flashbacks, M/M, PTSD Triggers, PTSD flashbacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stargazing, come get yalls semi-slow burn friends to lovers fic, seto makes funny jokes and i feel really clever for it, two dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonluster/pseuds/Moonluster
Summary: Rating for chapter 2: PTSD triggers and CW: imagined asphyxiation, dissociating.For context, please read: Reunion, A New Challenge. Optional read: Return and Regrets, The Pomegranate's Answers.Chapter 1 summary: Seto arrives to the afterlife for the third time and is met with an insistent Atem who has decided that it’s dinnertime--no, an actual dinner. Seto learns about etiquette, Atem, and himself as well, just before the main event.Chapter 2 summary: Seto and Atem have a lengthy discussion under the stars.
Relationships: Atem/Kaiba Seto, Kaiba Seto/Yami Yuugi, Kaiba Seto/Yami Yuugi | Atem
Series: Transcendence [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684291
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	1. Questions Over Breaking Bread

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya’ll; I didn’t die, though a lot of crazy shit happened to me in the past couple of months. School, moving, now more school... ;^_^ Rest assured, however, that I am alive and hopefully this piece will satisfy you all for a while until I’m able to get to the next one. Anyway, thank you for all your patience and to the new readers who kudos’ed these pieces in the past few months (I see you, you funky Prideshippers ;3). This piece has to be split into two different parts due to the length of this one. Also, this piece is chock full of my own mini-headcanons and showing off how much useless Yu-Gi-Oh trivia I know, so enjoy!

The next time I traversed the dimensions to meet Atem, I was standing exactly where I’d left; the palace garden’s waterside. Upon entering, I started sweating, beads forming on my forehead--an issue I only experienced during the heat of my duels with _him_ , and overall the temperature was notably warmer and humid. A balmy, sun-soaked breeze passed through the courtyard, rustling the leaves and palms of the trees and shrubbery. Even though the sky was now mostly a darker blue, with hints of pink, red, and orange, which reflected against the tallest walls surrounding the garden, everything was brighter, and unless my senses deceived me...did I smell bread? 

I exited the courtyard and entered the hallway, looked to the right, and left down the halls, and noticed two patrolling guards. They saw me too and parted like water while pointing down the hallway from the direction they came. They didn’t make eye contact with me--which was odd, since they’d looked directly at me last time. 

I passed them, tantalized by the scent of warm bread wafting around the expansive, elaborately decorated sandstone halls. The torches crackled and popped as I went by; tickling my ears.

_I didn’t notice these elements the last couple of times..._

Guards continued to pepper my path and gestured to one hallway after another until I came to one where a female attendant had been waiting. When she caught sight of me, her lips parted in a small grin and she bowed ever so slightly--if awkwardly--hands clasped, and posture rigid. I nodded at her, and she insisted, with a gesture of her right arm down the hallway. She did not speak; just like the guards. 

When we reached the end of the hallway, another pair of guards were stationed on an open doorway. The attendant signaled them and they took their leave. We stepped into the inner room, which was large and expansive, with a singular table in the middle. I stopped just inside.

_Where is Atem? Is he planning on playing a game with me before we stargaze?_

As if the universe had answered me, Atem appeared out of seemingly nowhere, his bright, jewel-colored eyes finding me and a great, bright smile breaking across his face. My heart clenched on itself a little at the sight. 

The escort cleared her throat and spoke to him in their native tongue. I hadn’t taken note of it before but the way it sounded was lulling; relaxing, even.

He addressed her with a gracious grin and sent her away with a wave of his hand. I turned to watch as she left, then faced the man I’d come to see. 

“It’s so good of you to come, Kaiba! I’ve been waiting.” He addressed me with a steady gaze, eyes smiling, “I was starting to think I would be dining alone this evening.” 

“Hn,” I acknowledged, glancing between him and the table, “do you mind telling me what’s going on?”

“Well, I thought,” he played with a strand of his blond hair, while he leaned against one of the only two seats, “since it’s early for you to be awake in your world, I figured you could do with a meal. Besides, it’s about time for me to eat as well.”

I bristled, heat flushing into my ears, “I came here to _see the_ ‘ _stars’_ if you remember?”

“Ah, yes,” by the look on his face, he was feigning as if he’d forgotten about it. 

_Annoying._

“We will definitely do that, but you won’t see the _true_ _glory_ of the heavens until _after_ the moon rises.” 

I found myself tight-lipped with a frown, then muttered, fixing him with a narrow gaze, “so, this was your intention the entire time.”

He nodded with that same _stupid_ grin, “indeed. I think we could do with spending more time together, hm? Despite your insistence it’s _‘transactional’_...” he eyed me with an expression I couldn’t read.

“Atem,” I started, but he interrupted me. 

“Please, take a seat.”

“Tch.” Despite being annoyed at this sudden change in plans, I did as he asked.

He took a seat across from me, and I realized how close we were. I could see details I’d not noticed before, and could fully appreciate now; the purple undertones in his mostly reddish eyes, the smooth, glistening texture of his skin, and the way his earrings reflected the light of the torches surrounding us. He certainly didn’t carry the same energy or demeanor as Yuugi; he seemed ethereal, almost, yet youthful and confident all at once. 

My thoughts were interrupted when he asked, “I don’t suppose you’re familiar with the table etiquette of my culture?” 

I shook my head, responding, “Modern Egypt is a far different place than it was compared to your time.” 

“Absolutely. Believe me, I was shocked by the change!” 

He chuckled, then continued, his voice warm like the air in the courtyard, “no matter, I’ll teach you.” 

He spoke so easily and confidently...it almost made _me_ feel at ease, too, but I wouldn’t let myself get _that_ comfortable. Not yet. 

Before I knew it, a team of servants descended upon us. He seemed unperturbed as they placed bowls with water, golden goblets that were soon filled with what I assumed was a type of wine, a small basket of bread, and some sort of creamy paste, topped with red powdery spice on the table. The spice’s aroma was similar to that of American tacos. The servants left promptly once they were done setting the table with food.

I brought my attention to the table and began to look at how it was arranged. Atem seemed to notice my inquisitive glancing. My stomach knotted anxiously with hunger pangs. I was in the habit of ignoring them, but once I was presented with food, I couldn’t help but notice it. 

It took a few minutes for him to explain everything; it took even longer for me to get over my puzzlement as to why tableware wasn’t an option, and Atem simply chuckled, “because, if we had the utensils Japan has, we would be eating sand! Not that it’s escapable in the living world,” he fixed me with an amused smirk, “the afterlife has its perks.” 

I exhaled briefly, trying not to grin too much at the jest. I was unsure who would take the first piece of bread--otherwise known as flatbread. I looked to him, a question I hoped I could ask without speaking. 

“I insist,” Atem remarked coolly as he nodded, his adorned palm open at the spread laid between us. 

I nodded and took a small piece, observing its texture, color, and shape before I took a tentative dip into the paste between us. I tried not to take too much, despite there being an ample amount of the substance. I also tried to ignore Atem, who was studying me, which made me want to hide. 

_Stop looking!_

Bringing the bread with the mysterious, taco-smelling, creamy paste--which Atem informed me was called hummus--to my lips, I attempted a nibble, then another, and allowed the textures and flavors to coat my tongue. The hunger knot that had been forming in the pit of my stomach made itself painfully known. The bread, in combination with the hummus, was surprisingly delicious, and I let Atem know as much with an approving nod. Taking this as a signal to begin dining, Atem dug in, unhesitant yet still regal. 

_Unlike when he ate the pomegranate,_ I recalled, slightly amused.

After a few bites, he observed with a knitted brow, “you haven’t gotten through your first piece...is it to your liking?” 

“I’m taking my time,” I informed him. 

It felt strange to eat in front of other people. Even Mokuba rarely saw me eat. I much preferred to dine alone. As far as I could remember, I was always conscious of this. 

“I see. Well, don’t take too long, the next course will come as soon as we’re satisfied with this one.” 

“Hn.” I acknowledged, then decided it was my turn to choose the topic. 

Unsure of where to set the bread aside (there were no plates save the one in the middle), I held it in between my fingers, “I thought about what you said, and...” 

He was quiet but his eyes were steady on me, and I only paused to notice his attentiveness, “I’ve decided to take your advice. Whatever you want, I’ll go along with it.” 

It was weird hearing myself say it out loud. I’d planned to tell him on this visit, yet it still sent a shiver of vulnerability through me. 

He smiled and relaxed in his seat, “I’m glad, truly. Though, it won’t be all up to me, Kaiba. You can choose what we do, too.” 

I fixed him with a furrowed brow, “what do you mean?”

“There’s plenty to do here. We could play the games I played as a child, like Senet, we could ride horses across the desert, take a boat on the great Nile...there are many possibilities.”

Intrigued, my lips pulling into a smirk, I replied, “games, eh? I didn’t think the people of Ancient Egypt played games, aside from the ancient version of Duel Monsters.” 

“ _That_ was a game only available to the nobility, mostly my family,” he corrected, then began playfully, “besides, what else were we supposed to do? My people’s dynasty spanned thousands of years. We would’ve thought of entertainment at _some_ point.” 

Realizing the stupidity of my statement, I shifted in my seat, looking away from him, “yes, how foolish of me to assume the national pastime was trying _not_ to get eaten by crocodiles.” 

  
A snicker, and then a chuckle erupted from him, and as if trying to hide it, he took a quick sip from his goblet. I glanced at him; he was grinning, and added, “don’t forget the snakes.”

“Oh, the snakes. Of _course_ . How could I have forgotten?” My face was threatening to break into what might be a stupid-looking smile.  
  
We both looked at each other and respectively broke into soft laughter. I don’t remember ever joking around with him--or anyone--for such a length of time before. It felt unusually natural, and I wasn’t sure what to think of it, yet. 

He took another sip from the goblet, “now that the ice has been broken, why don’t we start asking each other questions?”

“...Sure,” I remembered what he said about building a friendship. This was his way of teaching me what it meant. 

He nodded with a smile, “right. I'll go first; what kind of food do you like to eat?”

_An appropriate question, considering the moment we’re in..._

I responded before taking another nibble at the flatbread, “one of my favorite dishes is beef fillet. I’m not partial to anything else other than that. Well, except Oden.” I sneered in disgust at the memory of the dish. 

“I see...interesting,” he remarked, tone laced with intrigue, “I don’t know if you’ll ask in kind, so I’ll just say it: my favorite dish in the entire world--and I scorned my memory loss for it--is Ta'ameya. It’s a type of grainy...meatball? Is that the word?” 

He looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded, agreeing with him if only to guide him along. 

“Except it isn’t made with meat and it’s fried in oil, but it’s delicious, and common street food from my country. I hope, out of all the things that changed, that did not, at least.” 

“Hmm. I’ve been to Egypt a few times, and I’d never heard of it,” I tried to relate, taking another tentative dip of hummus with a second, small piece of bread. 

“In fact, I hope they serve it in this meal!” His face and eyes lit up as he spoke about it, and I couldn’t help but grin. He reminded me of Mokuba whenever he had the chance to get a chocolate parfait; the same type of excitement and joy. 

“It sounds good,” I replied, trying to keep the conversation moving, “this is the afterlife, though, you should be able to get whatever you want,” I added. 

He informed me, “I prefer to be surprised, rather than have everything at my whim. Anyway, it’s your turn next, but now,” he snapped his fingers, and the servants once more descended around the table. 

When the second round of hurried activity was over, I returned my attention to the table and Atem. He couldn’t help but widen his eyes, brows high, and a big smile. 

“My hope has been answered!” He remarked happily, taking one of the fried brown balls from the middle, and dipped it in the sauce presented alongside the dish. 

“I thought I got first priority?” I felt my lips tug into a smirk and I eyed him through a--hopefully playful--narrow gaze. 

As if remembering to be regal, holding the saucy, fried ball in his hand, he amended, “you’re right, I apologize. Go on, try it.” 

I did as he asked, taking the first bite without the dipping sauce. 

It _was_ grainy in texture, as Atem had said, but it was also full of flavor. I primarily tasted dill, sesame, and garlic. I hadn’t known it was possible to combine such flavors together, but somehow it had been done in this apparently simplistic dish. 

“How is it?” He inquired, anticipating my reply.

I swallowed and answered, “I can see why you enjoy it. The flavors are interesting, and the texture isn’t so unlike meatballs.” 

Apparently happy with the answer, he took a swift bite of the sauce-drenched Ta'ameya. 

I searched my mind for a decent question to ask, but I couldn’t find one that didn’t sound remotely ridiculous. 

“I end my turn,” I remarked.

He finished his first serving of Ta'ameya, “are you sure? Then it’s my turn,” he shifted in his seat, taking another sip of the red liquid within it--the same one in mine. 

When he put it down, he eyed me inquisitively, “do you not drink?” 

I found myself taken aback, “what do you mean?”

He pointedly tipped his head at the cup on my side of the table, “you haven’t touched it the entire time. It’s honeyed red wine.” 

I replied, my voice lowering, “no,” To emphasize my point, I pushed the goblet away from me, toward the middle of the table. He hadn’t informed me if this gesture was part of the dining etiquette, but I needed to make the point clear. I hoped it wasn’t too offensive.

He took a deep breath and sighed, deflating ever so slightly, “ah, I see. I apologize. I’ll have the drinks chosen more carefully next time,” the tone in his voice sounded like he was almost _disappointed_ in himself. 

“‘Next time?’ You expect this to happen again?” 

“If you’re willing, yes, and if you’ll eat a little more, as well.” 

My mouth twisted into a sour frown, “I will eat as much as I please.” 

“Please do, there’s enough for both of us. You can’t expect me to eat it all, and leftovers are not an option,” I could tell he was joking, but also serious.

“...I’m just not hungry,” that was a lie. I was, but I was trying to be polite. “Maybe I’ll come with a better appetite if you tell me what we’re doing next time.” 

“Suit yourself, and duly noted,” with a shrug he grabbed another Ta'ameya ball. 

There was a beat of silence, filled with thinking and dining before I got the courage to ask him a question, figuring I’d relate it to past events, “did you know that Battle City was going to be the last time we saw each other in the living world?”

He stilled akin to a statue, and rigidly placed the half-eaten Ta'ameya on the plate between us. Atem’s eyes were away from me, and his tone was somber as he spoke, “it’s hard to say, now. I somehow believed you wouldn’t give up on our destiny...but I wasn’t thinking about that at all. I was too focused on finding myself, and being reunited with the fate I was originally meant for.” 

As I listened, I clenched my palm into a balled fist against my lap, the one that wasn’t focused on the dining experience, making it a point to steady my expression and contain any volatile emotion that might rise to the surface.

He continued, voice low and tainted with sadness, “...perhaps, I was too hasty. I should’ve given you a chance to say your piece before I left,” his eyes returned to me, and within them, I saw his feelings clearly; an apology spoken, guilt announced, as deep as the expanse of space. 

I didn’t know what to say to that. His feelings were so potent they nearly overwhelmed the situation. Swallowing the paralysis that came with witnessing such strong feelings, I replied, explaining my end, “Yuugi...he had informed me the Ceremonial Duel was occurring, but by the time I got there, it was too late,” the last words dropped like a lead ball in a pond. Heavy, cold, and jarring.

I _was too late._

He nodded, his expression solemn, “I see...well, I’m glad it worked out this way, anyway.” 

I met his eyes again and noticed him grinning softly at me, warm and friendly, “truly, I am. Even though things didn’t work out the way they were expected to, I’m grateful for your presence here tonight, Kaiba.” 

“Kch,” I attempted to distract myself by taking a bite of Ta'ameya, the heat in my blood rushing to my ears and my collar, only speaking after I swallowed, “don’t say such things to me.” 

_No one should be saying those things to me. I don’t deserve to hear them._

He chuckled, “if you insist. Now, I believe it’s time for dessert.”

Another round of frantic serving and unidentifiable faces filled a couple minutes’ time, for the _last_ time in the evening, and before us lay what Atem called a ‘honey cake’. There was enough for both of us, though I took very little and ate almost none of my portion. For Atem’s sake, I did nibble at it a little bit but I had no inclination to finish it. 

“I forgot I had a sweet tooth, as they call it in your world,” Atem commented, looking very delighted as he dug carefully into the portion of cake he’d taken. 

“Hm,” I hummed noncommittally, “I believe it’s your turn to ask me a question.”

“Ah, my apologies,” he commented before continuing, “what else, other than games, do you enjoy in your spare time? If you have any,” he smirked and I snickered at the aside.

“Well, I used to participate heavily in martial arts...and when I was younger, I also liked football (a.n.: soccer), though I hardly do it anymore.”

“I’d heard of that sport. It’s popular in Japan, right?” Atem inquired.

“Mm. Many of us...in the orphanage,” it occurred to me, upon uttering the words, that Atem didn’t know anything about my past, and this would open me up to either pity, or more questions, and I _loathed_ this. I pressed on, regardless of my feelings, “many of us played to blow off steam, or settle arguments. It was...fun,” I couldn’t recall the last time I’d said that word. 

**‘Fun’.**

I glanced back to Atem, who’d apparently forgotten about his cake as he had his full attention on me. 

Looking away, I continued, “my stepfather, Gozaburo wouldn’t let me play, even in my ‘spare time’, so I lost interest in it. Though I do kick the ball around with Mokuba on occasion when he thinks I need to take a break from work.” 

“That sounds like it _would_ be fun, Kaiba. Perhaps you could teach me how to play?” 

My attention returned to him as he spoke, “Yuugi didn’t know how to, so as a result, neither do I, and I was forbidden from doing anything too strenuous in my childhood.” 

A mischievous grin spread across his face, eyes folding at the corners, “well, at least _inside_ the palace.” 

I couldn’t help but tilt my head in interest, hiding a small grin that threatened to break my face, “Oh? So the virtuous Pharaoh had a rebellious streak?” 

“That’s only _half_ of it,” he laughed, and his laughter echoed throughout the room.

“I could tell you all the stories I have from when I was a child; of what Mahad, Mana, Seth, and I used to get up to, my solo adventures in the streets of my kingdom. It’s how I discovered Ta'ameya, you know.” 

“Were you ever found out?” 

I remembered briefly how Mokuba used to prank various staff when he was younger, which he would regale to me in the limited conversations we had. He was hardly punished since he wasn’t ever caught.

“Well, yes,” he seemed to sneer a little bit, if only playfully, “but, you must indulge me this--” his tone changed ever so slightly, and I interrupted, “isn’t it my turn to ask a question?” 

“Unless you want to pass it?”

“Sure, if it will satisfy you.” 

“...You said you were an orphan--”

On hearing the words, my heart instantly constricted, and I swiftly interrupted him, “I would rather not discuss it,” I fixed him with a steely glare, “I don’t want to think about that time in my life too much.”

The ever-gracious Pharaoh flinched like he was stung, staring back at me, as if searching within my very soul, “I--but Kaiba, your past is part of who you are now. As your friend, I’d like to know all I can about you, and I’d hope you would like to do the same?” 

I turned sharply from him, crossing my arms, and leaned back in my seat, “I do, but I don’t discuss these matters of my past, even with you.” 

Something inside me echoed, ‘ _maybe that was a bit harsh_ ’.

A silence filled the air, infused with pain, and a sense of betrayal. Atem seemed unable to say anything for at least a minute or two and then I heard him sigh, “I understand...then I will not press you any further on the matter. Now, or in the future.” 

Hearing this admission felt like a heavy weight shifted from my shoulders, and at last, I managed to turn my attention back to him, only for guilt to announce itself at the sight of him. 

He seemed to have shrunk a little as if he were retreating, not making eye contact, and thoroughly divested from speaking any further. 

Realizing he was withdrawing from the conversation entirely, and not wanting to turn this into something neither of us did again, I hastily amended, “Atem, no. I’m not angry at you, I just...don't talk about it again.” 

We met gazes, various elements of emotion passed between us in the silence. His need to understand, my need for space, and the totality of compromise.

“I won’t. You have my word,” he promised with a nod. 

I acknowledged the promise and made a mental note to check him if he ventured into that territory again. If he was going to have me on his terms, then he needed to know what some of mine were, too. It was only fair. 

Eventually, the moment passed and we--more like he was--relaxed and cordial again. I couldn’t bring myself to relax immediately after the tension passed, and I don’t think I would be able to for the rest of the day. 

“Shall we move to the garden? The stars and the rising moon are surely more observable now, and I’m satisfied with our meal,” Atem stood from his seat, all kinds of jeweled, golden adornments making various sounds as he moved. 

I copied his motion, adding my own flare by sweeping the hem of my coat across the stony floor, which made a soft, scraping sound. 

He joined me at my side, which sent a shiver of excitement through me; similar to the one I felt at the Battle City tournament. It seemed odd that I could feel the same in two different situations, yet here I was. 

With a warm smile and gaze, he gestured toward the hallway before us, inviting and commanding all at once, “let’s go.”


	2. What the Stars Heard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto and Atem have a lengthy discussion under the starry night sky.

When Atem and I entered the courtyard, it was notably chillier than earlier. Judging by the way the temperature had fallen, and how high the moon was--which was more brilliant here than in the living world--Atem and I must’ve dined for a couple of hours. It hadn’t felt _that_ long. 

  
_Maybe time passes differently here, or it seems that way because it’s in a place I’m not familiar with._

If I were to imagine an afterlife for myself--not that I believed in a place of such for someone like me--I would have chosen similar qualities in terms of the way time flowed, effortless, the same way it did through Atem’s paradise. 

For me, time is monochromatic: a way I judge myself and my progress. Every minute, every hour, is precious, and I won’t let a moment slip away from me to idleness if I can help it.

Unfortunately, Atem had different plans for me and I was breaking these general rules I’d set for myself.

He’d gone on ahead to arrange a couple of--chairs?--with significant lean back, like the one I’d seen him on when I visited last time.

He called me to him, then added, “I figured you would want something more comfortable and less dirty than the ground.”

“Your attention to detail is impeccable,” I offered, and he grinned.

  
  
“I try.”

He took his seat and bid me to do so as well, and I followed his request. It wasn’t like I’d planned to _stand_ the entire time.

He commented, “ _Nut_ has painted the sky even more beautifully than usual, and _Khonsu_ seems to be quite full. 

He turned to me with a smile in his eyes, “I wonder if it has anything to do with your being here.” 

I tensed at how _easily_ he’d said it. 

It bothered me, but not in a way it usually would. It was a different irritation, one I couldn’t quite put a name to, but it still prickled until I shrugged it off.

I turned my attention to the night sky; the stars, unaffected by any light or air pollution, shone brilliantly, undeterred by the moonlight. 

Once my eyes adjusted, I saw the large band of the Milky Way, positioned above the courtyard. Whoever built this palace constructed it so this would be the exact scene a Pharaoh would see at night.  
  
Normally I would’ve felt moved by it, but I’d already beheld the stars, planets, and Earth from outside the atmosphere more than once.  
  
Then, it occurred to me Atem likely didn’t know what space looked like from anywhere but the ground.  
  
“I’ve seen what it looks like from up there,” I commented, hoping I didn’t disturb his tranquility too much; since he was content to exist at the moment. 

He started and looked back to me, his brows raised, “really?”

I nodded, glancing between the sky and him, not failing to notice how those garnet eyes shimmered under the moon’s light, which had me quietly shudder, “yes, I’ve been above the atmosphere. I’ve seen what the world looks like below.”  
  
He seemed enraptured so I continued, without filtering or abridging myself, “the stars, as brilliant as the moon is tonight, are as vast as the sea; and the cosmos are endless. I could see _planets_ light-years from me. The atmosphere of the Earth itself is a light, blue color, so it really _is_ the ‘Blue Planet’. Up there, I could think most clearly. When you’re on Earth, you hear the _endless_ , noisy activities of others. You don’t think you do, but once you’re in a place where it’s quiet--in all senses of the word--you realize how _loud_ humanity is.” 

He inquired, “are we truly so noisy? On nights like this, I can only hear the wind, the plants rustling, the torches crackling, and my own breathing.” 

“Well, perhaps it was quieter here, even in cities, but in the world I live--which you were _lucky_ enough to inhabit--the planet has gotten _loud_ , unbearably so.” 

“I see...”  
  
I moved my eyes to the stars again, gazing across the band of the Milky Way, “I’ve often wished to escape this vessel of a body. I’ve wanted to know what it is to be free of my urges, wants, needs, pain...! Being up there intensified the desire. I don’t want to be a part of this species, with our base nature and endless bloodthirstiness.” 

I brought my hand up and gazed at it, turning my arm about, “yet it's impossible. No matter how much I try, I will always be bound to this ever-failing, ever-decaying, ever- _desiring_ body. No amount of technology or scientific advancement, in the time I will be alive, will ever liberate me or any other person from these faulty machines we call the human condition.” 

Letting my arm down, I chuckled, “‘ _condition_ ’...like a disease. One that never goes away no matter how much we fool ourselves into thinking we can transcend it.” 

I, too, was guilty of this.

_This may be the closest I can get._

Once I finished, my mouth and throat were dry. 

  
It was silent between us for a few minutes before Atem started, clearing his throat, “I understand what you mean, Kaiba. However, I disagree with your notion that humanity is all base instinct and bloodlust, despite the fact I _myself_ inherited a war I never started.” 

_This_ piqued my curiosity. 

I turned to him and asked, “is that so? You were always intense in our battles, but I never took you as a person to wage war.” 

It was true. Even with all his pride and gusto, he always had the interests of others--his friends, Yuugi--at heart.  
  
I thought vagrantly, _I suppose that includes me, too._  
  
A strange notion that I quickly brushed away so I could focus on his storytelling.  
  
“The garments I’m wearing,” he raised his arms and looked down his body to punctuate, “symbolizes the wartime of my country. I died fighting a battle I could never hope to win.”  
  
He continued, “I was Pharaoh for a couple of weeks into my reign. Admittedly, I wasn't prepared to take over all the responsibility it entailed. My father was slain by the gods for the evil my uncle committed against our own people. The Millenium Items? They were forged from the bodies of the poor and defenseless in a village called _Kul Elna_. There, the ultimate sin of my family befell us.” 

I didn’t understand how any of that worked, so I asked for clarification, “why did your father die in place of the man who should’ve been punished? The one who _actually_ committed the crime?” 

Atem’s eyes lowered and his face settled into a solemn, sorrowful look, and he murmured so softly I almost wasn’t able to hear him, “he felt responsible for the grave act, and begged the gods to spare me their wrath, as the sins of his brother would also be the sins of mine. So they heard his plea, and took his life as retribution for the action taken against our people.” 

That didn’t answer my question and I was still confused, but I decided to leave it at that. This aside, I was lost for words. There was nothing I could say or think of which might offer the most minor amount of consolation. 

At that moment, I saw weight overcome Atem so much he seemed to shrink under the heaviness of it, and his inner light was dampened. I’d never seen him so reduced before.  
  
He was almost _painful_ to look at. A great king, burdened by even greater sorrow, of acknowledging his part in the suffering of others. 

Of course, I could identify with that, but I needed him to get back to himself before the conversation turned sour. 

I spoke up, though it sounded stupid to hear myself say it, “that was...difficult for you.” 

He burst into a sad chuckle, “...yes, and no one can understand it. I wasn’t able to stay alive long enough to see the aftereffects of my actions regarding Zorc. I knew I wouldn’t survive, so I asked my cousin, Seth, to take the throne in my place once I ceased to exist.”

Before I had the chance to speak, he appeared to remember something and made eye contact with me, “I never realized the similarity between you two,” he narrowed his gaze as if studying my face, which had me dart my eyes away and wishing he wouldn’t stare so intently, “even down to the facial features.” 

I huffed, turning away, “you’re joking, right? There’s no way your cousin was _exactly_ like me. It’s not even _possible,_ from genetic and scientific standpoints.”  
  
I heard the shrug in his tone, “I didn’t say you were _exactly_ alike, because yes, it’s impossible, but I’m saying it’s interesting how I draw likenesses between you two, just as there was a physical likeness between Yuugi and me.”  
  


“Hmph. Interesting or not, I prefer not to be compared to _anyone_.” 

“Understandable,” he replied, “I’m sorry for bringing it up.” 

“Don’t be,” honestly, I was tired of hearing his apologies. 

I didn’t know how to make him stop without making it look like I didn’t want to hear him speak ever again. I knew I needed to work on that.  
  
_Relationships with others are so difficult!_

There was a reflective, quiet space as we digested each other’s thoughts, feelings, and words, until Atem broke the silence, his voice sounding as dry as my throat felt:

“Kaiba Corporation must be extremely successful, more so than when I last knew...to be able to go past the sky is an overwhelming accomplishment.”

I chuckled, accepting the compliment, “The only one who can be up there is me, alone.”

“Was your company always one that dealt with games and, now, space and dimension travel?” He had his attention on me, a small smile on his lips. 

“...unfortunately, no.” 

I turned from him, hoping to conceal whatever uncontrolled facial expressions I might make while divulging the topic, “before I ‘inherited’ it, it belonged to my predecessor; Gozaburo Kaiba, who I got the surname from. He and the company were invested in machinery, artillery, weapons...meant to take human lives, destroy entire nations.”

I paused, letting Atem soak up the info. 

I chanced a look at him; he was now sitting up, body angled toward me, eyes attentive but wide, and his lips were pursed. 

“Of course, I didn’t know this when I aimed to get myself and Mokuba adopted by him...I thought he was an ordinary, rich man who loved games just as I did; chess being the choice game I challenged him to.” 

Again, this was new information for Atem and I knew it was inevitable he might have questions about it, but I continued anyway, “it’s the only game I’ve ever cheated at, and sometimes I wonder what might’ve happened if I hadn’t done that.” 

_If I hadn’t won._

_If he hadn’t held up his end of the bargain._

I took a liberal pause, then pressed on, “I found out about his line of business a couple of years after I came under his ‘care’. It wasn’t long into mine and Mokuba’s new life that I underwent the process of being groomed...to become the ruthless, heartless, _pitiless_ son he’d always wanted.”  
  
I felt the space between Atem and I sour with sorrow and solemnity; mostly from Atem’s side of it. 

“What he’d seen that day when I gave ultimatum conditions and cheated at the chess game, he used to shape me into the person you saw at Death-T, and part of what you see now, even after you shattered my heart back at that time.” 

I felt my mind slipping--again for what felt like the millionth time in my life--like there were sucking, black holes in my memory, and I was vaguely aware that because of this, I’d stopped talking.

The quiet and the static in my mind was broken by Atem, who pressed, hesitant, “what did he do to make you that way?”

I forced myself to shake away the darkness of my mind, finding myself trembling.  
  
My voice reflected it, “I--I don’t think I should continue.” 

I wet my lips and swallowed, “I don’t remember much of what happens after, anyhow.” 

This was a bald-faced lie. I couldn’t let Atem know the dark truth. I didn’t trust him enough. I didn’t trust _anyone_. 

Atem breathed a sigh; gentle, but frustrated, “understood.” 

He said something after that but I didn’t hear it because the blood and static in my head roared louder than any other sound could possibly overcome.

Bringing a hand up to my eyes and closing them, I made a concentrated effort to breathe, trying to still and steady my racing heart and trembling body. A constricting, weighted feeling wrapped around my throat--a familiar one to me that nearly had me cough, even though there was nothing there but the light pressure of my turtleneck.  
  
_Fight it, Seto! It’s an illusion meant to make you weak!_  
  
I stayed like that, trying with desperation to calm myself for a length of time I can’t recall. 

It’d been long enough that Atem had left and returned. 

He touched me gently on the arm, light and quick enough to get my attention and nothing more. I could’ve snapped at him for it, but I didn’t. 

Removing my hand and my eyes found him, he offered a small jug, “water. I don’t know about you, but I’m parched from all this talking.”  
  
I didn’t trust myself to receive it properly, so I nodded to the side table, a slight feeling of guilt rushing through me. Yet, he made no comment or otherwise suggested he was displeased with me. 

I tried not to look directly at him, nodding my thanks. Internally, I shuddered still. 

Once he sat down, I took the container carefully, still shaking. I willed my body to still itself and angled away from him, taking a deep drink.  
  
_Even the_ water _tastes different...more refreshing._

After some time passed, my shudders evened and calmed, but my heart continued to race. 

Atem hummed, then said, “I know you said not to say this, but I really am glad you came tonight. It’s not often I get to do this with a friend.” 

A small grin cracked my lips and I fought the urge to look at him, instead, wondering idly what his expression looked like, based on the warmth of his voice, “that makes two of us.” 

He laughed. The sound of it echoed in the night air, bouncing off the walls of the courtyard. I’d never heard anything more comforting.  
  
_Wait, what am I doing? This isn’t like me!_

I thought for a moment that maybe Atem didn’t have many people he could call on to do things like this, and that was why he did what he did that night, but I resisted it.

Huffing, I turned away, “can’t you ask someone to do this with you? I’m sure any of the servants would be happy to.” 

“I _could_ , but it wouldn’t mean as much.” 

I growled softly under my breath but didn’t retort. 

“What was _that_?” Atem teased. 

I sneered, “nothing. You’re...”

“Hmm?” 

“Just--!” I struggled to find the words, but my efforts failed.

“Never mind,” I said finally, my shoulders deflating. 

“You have many Traps about you, Kaiba...I have to be careful not to encroach them,” he mused, and I decided not to play into any of _his_ Traps. 

_Not that he doesn’t have any shortage of_ those...  
  
“Don’t test me,” I warned, though the threat lacked the usual bite it would’ve had.  
  
He laughed aloud, saying nothing else.

I got the nagging feeling I should return soon, a sense of fatigue washing over me that’d been waiting to make itself known. 

I made a light effort to sit up--moving brought back the slight trembling, and stood. I faced Atem, who had his attention on me with an eyebrow raised. 

I reflexively swallowed-- _why? What the hell was_ that _?--_ and spoke aloud, “I have something for you. Repayment--for the fruit you gave me.” 

“Oh, the pomegranate! I forgot about that,” Atem stood swiftly, apparently not as tired as I felt.

“Was it good? Did you like it?”  
  
I nodded, “it was much like cherries. Sweet, and slightly sour.” 

_Like most Egyptian food, it was unexpectedly good. I...want more of it._

Shaking these vagrant thoughts, I took a breath, “anyway.”

I reached into my coat pocket, and my hand found purchase on a small box I’d been keeping there. I produced it, making a point to hold it in both of my hands, and extended my reach toward him. 

I averted my eyes, “this is for you.” 

“Oh...” his ‘oh’ was drawn out, filled with curiosity. 

I flinched, turning my face away, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt his fingers brush against my palms. I waited until I felt the lightweight of the box leave to draw away.   
  
Resisting the urge to clench my hands, I forced myself to look back at him. 

He hadn’t opened it, and based on the way he was looking back at me; unsure if he should. 

I cleared my throat, “go ahead.” 

He nodded, his lips pursed, and he popped it open, taking a long look at the contents. 

“A watch?” He confirmed, meeting my eyes. I couldn’t read his expression.

“Mmn.” 

“Oh...it’s...” 

My jaw clenched gently and I watched his reactions carefully. 

_Does he not like it? Is it inappropriate compared to what he gave me? What does he think of it?_

“It’s so you can see what time it is in my world...since I have the means of knowing what time it is in yours,” I hastily explained, then held my breath. 

He broke out into the greatest smile I think I’d ever seen--it even took place over the one he showed me before our meal that night, “I’m grateful. Thank you for this wonderful gift, Kaiba.” 

“I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing compared to whatever gifts usually befit a Pharaoh,” at that point, I realized I was saying nonsense. 

_He’s thankful that he_ seems _to like it._

He either hadn’t heard me in his apparent happiness or decided not to comment as he took the device from the box. 

I’d picked it according to his tastes--or what I thought might be his tastes, based on how he dressed. 

It was gold in color, and in fact was made out of a small amount of gold, with intricate designs that reminded me of his time and place. It was an uncharacteristic purchase, but I was content no one questioned it; not even Mokuba, who’d thought it was a great idea. 

Atem found out how it worked quickly, clasping it onto his right wrist--which _did_ look a little bulky when placed over his bangles--but it still suited him. 

He gazed at it for a bit, eyes sparkling. 

Once he was done admiring it, he met my gaze and repeated, “thank you. This is something I never expected but...I’m pleased. I’ll be able to know when the best time to call you is.” 

“Good. That’s what it was for.” 

I sighed, trying not to fidget where I stood, “I have to go, but...I’ll see you later.”  
  
The words felt strange coming from my mouth, and my heart was warmed at them. Or maybe I was shivering from the chill of the night. 

“Yes, see you later...Kaiba,” Atem seemed to want to say something else and I willed myself to stay to hear it, but he shook his head and smiled at me, “never mind. Go. I’ll see you when I see you.” 

  
“Hn.”  
  
Everything went black and cold, but I could feel my heart was anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, I’m begging you all to listen to “Trying” by Lifehouse. It’s essentially Transcendence’s theme and a little bit of an inspo song. I’ve been dying to recommend this since, like, part 3 or 4.  
> On another note, I’m so fucking excited to be over this “rough adjustment” stage of Seto and Atem’s developing relationship, so it’ll just be all fun relationship-building from here! What’s in the cards (funnie pun/references) for our two young men? What dorky shit will they get up to? Will Seto ever realize how fucking gay he is?!?  
> All of this, I can’t answer, but I’m still super excited to do all this and I hope you all are just as excited, too.  
> In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know what you thought (I worked so hard on this yall...gimme that sweet validation T_T)!

**Author's Note:**

> I worked on this piece for 2 damn months. @_@ I love it but I’m so sick of looking at it.  
> Also, Ta’ameya (Ta’amiya, Tamiya, whatever, there are so many spellings of it), if you didn’t know, if Egyptian falafel, and Atem’s favorite food according to Takahashi’s “Gospel of Truth”.  
> Links to sources: https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/254743/taameya-egyptian-falafel/  
> https://yugioh.fandom.com/wiki/Pharaoh_Atem  
> I lowkey wanna try it but I don’t think I’d make it right and screw up. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and I look forward to posting the next one...whenever that is. Right now I’m just happy to have this one finally out after two months of struggle.


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